Monthly Archives: October 2010
>It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, but I’ve got good reasons. On October 16th at 11:25pm, Jackson entered the world. I’d been in pain for about 48 hours, but after going to the hospital on Friday night and being told it was a false alarm I held out when the pain worsened on Saturday. My husband finally had enough and told me to call the doctor. The contractions were about 15 minutes apart at that time. I wanted to wait longer, but my husband had the good sense to insist that I make the call. We left the house shortly thereafter and on the way to the hospital the contractions got MUCH closer together. By the time we arrived at the hospital it seems like they were a lot closer to five minutes apart.
The nurses were all very calm when we arrived. They were prepared for another false alarm. They took me to triage where they started monitoring contractions and they took my measurements. The nurse suddenly became a whole lot less calm when she announced we were 8-9cm. After all those months of waiting, we were kind of surprised to be in the home stretch all of a sudden. I sent my husband to call everyone and then we headed up to labor and delivery. The nurses flooded the room to get everything ready. The person who inserted my IV used the largest needle I have ever seen in my life and could not get it in the original vein she tried. She tried again in another spot and thought she got the needle in. (Unfortunately, she did not, but we didn’t find that out until the next day when my hand swelled up and it looked like a golf ball had been inserted underneath my skin.)
The nurses started calmly leaving the room to my confusion. The nurse who seemed to be in charge of my delivery started to walk out and said to call her when it was time to push. I let her know that the time to push was NOW. That sent everyone into a frenzy again and suddenly the doctor was there and saying I should push.
Do you remember that moment in Knocked Up where Alison decides she wants an epidural, but it’s too late? I had that moment. It feels like you are on the tip top portion of a roller coaster awaiting the plunge and you suddenly don’t want to be on the ride anymore. When we arrived at the hospital it was already too late to give me anything other than an epidural since we were so far along. They had to wait to get my labs back to give me an epidural, but they said they would give me the option at that point. Unfortunately, Jack was not waiting for anyone or anything so he just barreled right along. The cord was around his neck, but the doctor acted like that was normal. He calmly cut the cord, directed me to push again, and after a few pushes he was out.
My husband was like part of the crew with the nurses and doctor. He held my legs back with them and when I wasn’t putting my chin to my chest as instructed he moved my head chestward. He was perfect. He watched the entire process and asked me if I wanted to see things as they happened. (The answer is no. I really don’t.)
Jack was 8lbs and 11oz. He was 20 and 5/8 inches long. He was born hungry and within a few minutes of being born latched on to me and fed for about 40 minutes. He’s got all of his fingers and toes and is everything that we had hoped for.
I feel like I haven’t had the time or energy to blog until now, but I feel much better and I am getting used to my sleep pattern being significantly different. In a few weeks, I hope to be able to leave the house on a regular basis, but for now I am alright with being home all the time.
It’s your due date. There’s no pressure or anything, but Mommy is a fan of being punctual. Also, I made cookies.We’ve been joined, literally, for 40 weeks now. In the scheme of our lives, this is not long. You won’t remember the womb, which is probably a good thing. It’s dark in there. You won’t remember your birth or the first couple of years you are alive, but I will.
Your father and I are probably going to take entirely too many pictures of you doing things that will seem mundane later in life, but they’re miraculous to us now. We’ll have pictures of you covered in your first foods and your first birthday cake, which will totally freak me out, but I’ll play along for a few moments before spastically wiping you off. We’ll look at and analyze your first and subsequent poos like some ancient tea leaf readers. Your grandmothers, and you’ve got a lot of them, will ooh, ahh, and coo at your every move.
You have a brother and sister who are waiting as patiently as a nine and seven year old can. They are thrilled that we’ve named you Jack. Annie is worried that you’ll beat her up later, but you won’t. Max is afraid that you’ll be annoying. You will be, but it won’t be your fault. Little brothers are always in awe of their big brothers, especially because Max is nine and a half years older than you.
You’re going to love it here. We have really amazing food. We live in Florida, but there is a whole world out there that you’ll get to explore if you want to. We have animals of all colors, shapes, and sizes that you’ll get to see and study. Starting at home there are three cats. They aren’t really sure why I’ve gotten so fat and I can’t walk properly. They are mostly upset about my complete lack of lap, but I know they will find you interesting. You guys will have a lot in common. Mostly, they sleep all day and they depend on me to feed them and clean up their poop. I’ll be bathing you more and you’ll get to sleep in my room for a while. Also, you’ll be going with us wherever we go, and they just chill out at home like lazy security guards.
I hope that this letter in some way inspires you to hit the eject button, but if you don’t we’re going to do some strong convincing on Monday at 6:30am. Please come sooner. Daddy is not exactly what I would consider a morning person and neither is my mother, who you’ll call Mimi. Since they are my support team during your blessed entry, I’d like you to arrive when they have some pep in their step. (I won’t lie. You know how I said we had amazing food here? We totally do. If you do come in the morning time, I’m sending Daddy or Mimi to get me breakfast and they are more likely to go get me exactly what I want if you come a tad later in the morning.)
I can’t wait to meet you.
>Jack is not coming out. He’s very comfortable. I, on the other hand, am very uncomfortable. What we have here, folks, is a failure to launch.
I know Jack isn’t due until October 13th. I understand that he’ll come when he’s ready. I just don’t know how much more of this I can take. To a certain extent, it’s not even the pregnancy that is driving me crazy. It’s the being home alone with very little to do. I’m not really a good housewife candidate.
Here is what a typical day is like for me:
- Wake up when my husband’s alarm goes off.
- Ignore his “go back to sleep” command.
- Stay in bed and watch him iron his clothes and head out for work.
- Attempt to go back to sleep.
- Exit the bedroom, still in jammies, and greet cats.
- Make a cup of tea and allow it to steep.
- Check email. facebook, and RSS feed while watching my neighbors with a life walk their dogs, go for jogs, and leave for work.
- Realize that an hour has passed and I forgot my tea. Start the tea process again.
- Take phone calls and texts from my mother and friends where the answer is essentially “NO, I have not have the baby yet.”
- Remember the tea. (Awesome. Earl Gray, I love you.)
- Pace around the house, talk to the cats, and struggle to think of things to do.
- Do laundry. We always have at least one load since we have a tiny washer.
- Consider making a baked good despite the fact that I probably won’t eat it and my husband probably can’t eat it.
- Take another round of phone calls in which the answer is still “No, I haven’t had the baby yet.”
- Attempt to take nap and fail.
- Fold the laundry.
- Wait for my husband to get home and sometime watch Dancing with the Stars.
I’m not a whiner, but I can’t wait until Jack gets here. I know that the next couple of months will be hard and that I’ll basically be begging God to let me sleep just a little, but at least I’ll have a focus.